


A Tale of Three Brothers

by hopeisnotcrazy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 13:37:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2430779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeisnotcrazy/pseuds/hopeisnotcrazy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter/Supernatural crossover</p><p>I realized how well Dean, Cas, and Sam fit into the Tale of Three Brothers story, and thought I would give it a try!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tale of Three Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> Partially inspired by this: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/568227677958964588/  
> And of course "A Tale of Three Brothers" is not my story, it's JK Rowling's, and I don't have the rights to it, etc.

There were once three brothers who were driving down a lonely, winding asphalt road at midnight. Their chariot was steel and sturdy, with headlights like torches and melancholy music serenading into the night. Its driver was the third brother, with piercing green eyes and an expressionless face. He looked straight ahead at the golden lines that traced his way down his path, listening to the quiet breaths of his sleeping companion in the passenger seat. Behind him, sitting in the back and staring out the damaged windows at the falling stars above was a solemn angel; not a brother in blood but in spirit. The night was deep, frightening, although unlike the horrors these three brothers faced every day. It was a silent kind of fear, the kind that lurks in corners. The shadows were dark that night. Too dark.

In time, the brothers reached a bridge too unsteady to cross in their car. It moaned with the slightest wind and was missing planks all across its length. However, these brothers were skilled hunters, and so they simply repaired the bridge with planks of elder salvaged from the riverbank. They were halfway across it when the headlights fell upon a cloaked figure, blocking their path. 

He was old. Older than time itself, and he was wrinkled and creased by the night, and he stumbled, leaning on a cane far too short for a man of his height. He was the end, the end of everything. And he was very good at what he did. He was Death. And Death spoke to the brothers. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three victims, three men who should have died on that river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their skills, and offered to help each of them as a reward for having been clever enough to evade him.

The oldest brother, the angel who looked upon the stars as if they were his own, asked for a kingdom, power worthy of one who had conquered Death! So Death agreed, and granted the first brother great power.

Then the second brother, the youngest one, who had fallen asleep in the passenger seat like he had as a child, asked for a favor from death. He asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death reached through the veil, and told the second brother he could have anyone back he chose.

And then Death asked the third brother, the driver with the green eyes and heart of stone, what he would like. This brother was the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwilling, allowed him to do so.

Then Death stood aside and allowed those three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so. In due course, the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reached another angel he had once disagreed with. Naturally, with Death’s power on his side, he could not fail to win the fight that followed. Leaving thousands dead on the green, he proceeded to boast of Death’s power, and how he was invincible. That very night, he was struck down by his own power, evil bursting forth from within him. And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his home, where he lived alone. Here he summoned Death, and requested to retrieve his lover’s soul from the dead. To his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, destroyed himself with foreign blood and hopeless longing. Eventually, Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally surrendered. And he greeted Death like an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.


End file.
